


(Attempted) Fatal Attraction

by taylor_tut



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Fake/Pretend Relationship, Lance (Voltron) Whump, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Poisoning, Sick Character, Sick Lance (Voltron), Sickfic, Slow Burn, Whump, fake boyfriends, klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-18 22:04:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11883753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylor_tut/pseuds/taylor_tut
Summary: When a strange alien tries hitting on Keith at a banquet, Lance pretends to be his boyfriend to get them to back off. Little do they know, this alien isn't so easily deterred... But Lance's desire to protect Keith is even more tenacious, even if it puts his own life in danger.





	1. Chapter 1

Have a fic!

The paladins hadn’t really cut loose and partied in a long while, so when the inhabitants of a planet they’d just saved demanded that they stay for a banquet, they weren’t about to argue.

Keith was hesitant, of course, insisting that they should be training, that he should be training. His duty as the black paladin consumed his every thought, but Allura ensured him that was the entire reason they needed this party, and when he’d looked over the exhausted faces of his friends, he couldn’t really argue. 

That’s how he got here: wearing a black suit given to him by an alien tailor, sipping some kind of blue punch that tasted like salted watermelon and huddling standoffishly near the side of the room. 

“Don’t go too wild, party animal,” came Lance’s teasing voice. He was breathing heavily from dancing, and Pidge was hot on his heels. 

Keith smirked, feeling himself perk up. “I think you’re going hard enough for the both of us,” he pointed out. “I didn’t know you could dance like that.”

“I can show you, if you want,” Lance offered. Keith’s cheeks began to heat up until he noticed Pidge nodding furiously. 

“He really can,” she reinforced. “I’m a terrible dancer, but he taught me a few moves.” 

“Show ‘im, Pidge,” Lance instructed, laughing as she grabbed his hands dramatically and salsa-walked to one side and back before dipping him so far down that his hair brushed the floor and letting him come back up. “See?”

Keith nodded. “Not bad,” he said with a low whistle. “I don’t think I could learn that.”

“You’d be surprised what you can do with the right teacher,” Lance promised. 

“I don’t know...”

“Come on! You teach me new things in training all the time; let me teach you something!”

“All right; all right,” Keith finally conceded, allowing himself to be led to the dance floor by the hand, “but nothing too fancy.”

“Ow,” Lance groaned, not for the first time since they’d started their lesson, “you’re killing my toes.”

“I told you, I’ve got two left feet,” Keith replied, breaking their embrace. “I can’t do this.”

“You can! You’re so nimble in training. Think about dancing like you think about sparring.”

“You want me to pin you?”

“Buy me dinner, then we’ll talk.”

Just as Keith was about to formulate a snarky remark, he felt a tap on the shoulder. “Mind if I cut in?” 

“Oh, sure,” Keith said, stepping aside to allow Lance to partner with this tall, orange and green, hairy alien. 

“No no,” they replied, “with you.” The alien took Keith’s hands. 

“I’m not much of a dancer,” Keith prefaced, but the alien shook their head. 

“But you’re a hell of a looker, and that’s all I need.” Keith flushed red, pulling away a bit. His heart was racing, but not in the way it had when he’d linked his fingers between Lance’s--this was different. This wasn’t the flutter of butterflies, it was maggots, crawling inside his stomach and making him nearly nauseated.

“That’s flattering, but I should be getting back to my group,” Keith lied. At that, the alien frowned, snaking an arm around Keith’s hips and pulling him in tightly. 

“They can wait,” the alien replied. “Right now, all that matters is you and me.”

Keith squirmed nervously, uncomfortable with the touch and the closeness but not wanting to offend. 

“Do you have a name?” they asked. 

“Keith.”

“I’m Tauchir,” they replied. “You’re the Black Paladin, yes?”

“Uh, yeah,” Keith replied. “Really, I need to go. My friends are waiting on me.”

Tauchir leaned in and pressed their lips to Keith’s neck, making him jump and gasp in surprise. Just when he really started to panic, he heard stomping footsteps behind him. 

“Just what do you think you’re doing to my boyfriend?” Keith turned around to see Lance, standing there with his hands on his hips, tapping one foot and looking livid. 

“Your--I’m sorry?” Tauchir stammered. 

“My boyfriend,” Lance repeated. “We’re dating.”

“Oh, I didn’t--I had no idea.”

“Yeah, well,” Lance muttered. “You still shouldn’t go groping people you just met.”

“I’m sorry,” Tauchir apologized to Keith, “I didn’t know you were spoken for.”

“Uh, right,” Keith said slowly, “no worries.” 

As Tauchir slithered away, Lance placed an arm around Keith’s shoulders and smiled. “Care for a drink, baby?”

“What are you doing?” Keith asked, stepping out from Lance’s hold. 

“Saving your butt from that creepy weirdo, that’s what,” Lance replied indignantly. 

“I could have handled it myself.”

“I know,” Lance said, causing Keith’s next argument to die on his tongue. “I just thought maybe you could use a hand. Some people can’t take a hint, and that dude was clearly one of them.”

Keith hesitated, but finally let his shoulders sag and huffed out a relieved breath. “Yeah,” he admitted, “you’re right. Thanks for that. I owe you a drink.”

“You do,” Lance agreed.

“I’ll have another blue punch,” Keith ordered awkwardly, “and whatever he’s having.” 

Suddenly, a voice from behind them made their hairs stand on end. 

“Scratch that, waiter. One blue punch and a Zozofruit tonic. It’s on me.”

“You don’t have to--”

“Nonsense,” Tauchir brushed Keith’s concerns away. “Consider it my way of apologizing.”

Hesitantly, Keith glanced at Lance for advice, but when he only shrugged, Keith decided to ignore his instinct and go with the polite answer--thank the alien for the drink and accept it. 

“Are you really going to drink that?” Keith asked, watching as Lance’s eyes light up at the sight of a massive mug of berry kebabs and mint leaves and sparkling water that glowed under the blacklight of the banquet hall. 

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Don’t you think it’s a little suspicious that this alien is being so nice about the whole “us fake dating” thing?” He took Lance’s hand and stroked his fingers lightly. 

“I don’t think he cares that much. And what are you doing to my hand?”

“He’s watching,” Keith said simply, nodding in the direction of Tauchir’s seat, where indeed he was watching, barely blinking, never taking his eyes off Lance and Keith.

“Okay, I’ll admit, that’s creepy,” Lance conceded. “But how’s he going to drug our drinks from way over there? We watched the bartender make them and give them directly to us. There’s nothing to worry about.” To prove his point, Lance took a long sip from his impressively large drink, staring Keith in the eyes the whole time, and then raised his eyebrows as if to ask “See? Everything’s fine.”

Keith finally shrugged. “If you say so,” he said, taking a sip of his own drink. 

PART 2 WILL BE UP TOMORROW BUT I TOOK AMBIEN SO I’M USELESS NOW. Goodnight! Please tell me if you enjoy this one or if there’s stuff you want to see in part 2!


	2. Chapter Two

Have fun! Sorry it’s late!

Lance's set his drink on the table in front of him and smiled at Keith.

"I believe we were learning the dip," Lance stated, outstretching his hand.

"What?" replied Keith elegantly.

"Dancing," Lance rolled his eyes, "remember? Don't think you're getting out of it so easily."

"You don't have to--"

"Believe me, it's been way too long since I've gotten to dance. I've needed this."

"Alright," Keith submitted, "if you're still not convinced I'm unteachable."

"No such thing," Lance winked. "Come on."

It took half an hour and more toe-stepping and head-dropping than Lance would have preferred, but Keith was finally able to successfully dip Lance to the floor and pick him back up. Their faces were both warm with exertion and slick with sweat, not to mention close enough for each paladin to feel the labored breathing of the other.

"You did it!" Lance cheered, his nose nearly pressing against Keith's as he supported the small of his back. He quickly pulled away, clearing his throat uncomfortably. "I told you you could."

"Yeah," Keith admitted, blushing a slight pink, "thanks for that. Anyway, let's sit down. I'm thirsty."

Lance nodded and followed Keith to their table, sitting down and taking another long sip of his drink. The flavor was saltier than he'd noticed it to be before, so he took a bite of one of the fruit on the skewers from the side of the drink. Tauchir was now seated at the table across from them, trying not to watch the two obviously but also not wanting to miss an opportunity to pounce upon Keith.

"Dude, maybe we should tell Allura about Tauchir," Lance suggested. "I'm starting to think that maybe this isn't such an innocent crush."

"I get a weird feeling," Keith admitted. "But Allura looks busy." The princess was mingling with a young alien princess, leaning forward on the table and sharing a pink drink with an umbrella in it. One hand twisted at her long hair and she bit her lower lip.

"Is she... flirting?" Lance asked incredulously, grinning from ear to ear. "Get some, Princess!"

Keith snorted. "Let her be," he scolded. "She deserves to cut loose."

"I know that," Lance said defensively. He took a hard look at Keith and frowned. "I think we all do."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, please; don't play that game. I'm not stupid. I know how much piloting Black takes out of you."

"I guess it's a little more tiring, but it's fine--"

"I'm not saying it's not," Lance shrugged. "Something can be fine even if it's stressful. You being the temporary Black Paladin is the best thing for the team, doubtless. None of us could do it any better than you can. Doesn't' mean it's not difficult. I hear the nightmares, Keith. We share a wall, remember?"

"Yeah, you're one to talk," Keith countered. Lance looked at him unwaveringly, taking another long sip of his drink. "You have nightmares, too. You call out. For your sisters, your mom. For Shiro."

Lance flushed red, but didn't avert his eyes. "I didn't realize you could hear that."

"I can. I just always assumed you wanted your privacy, so I never mentioned it."

"Likewise," Lance agreed, his hand finding its way to Keith's upper arm and stroking gently. "I always tell myself that I'm going to remind you I'm here to talk if you need someone, but somehow it just never feels like the right time."

"I know you're there," Keith nodded. "Believe me, if I wanted to talk, you're the first person I'd go to."

"Really?" Lance asked, trying to hide the pinkish tone of excitement from his voice. "Not Hunk? Or Allura?"

"Hunk would be too overbearing about it," Keith confessed, "and Allura has enough on her shoulders already without feeling like she's holding us hostage here in space."

"That's true," Lance admitted.

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"You know you can come to me when you're having a problem, yeah?"

Lance didn't mean to, but he laughed out loud. "Yeah, right," he wheezed.

"Why's that so funny?" Keith asked, sounding offended.

"I mean, you're just not exactly the most comforting person in the world," Lance explained. "No offense."

Keith was quiet for a moment, then looked down at the ground. "I guess you're right about that." It wasn't the answer Lance had been expecting, nor the one he was looking to elicit, and his eyes widened.

"Come on, don't take it that way! I'm just saying that everyone has different strengths. You're amazing with a weapon--"

"Oh, thanks; so I'm a bad friend, but I can use a knife; that's comforting."

"--And you're a great leader. There's more than one way to be a friend, and you're a great one. You're different. But for what it's worth, I'm glad you're mine."

Keith flushed bright pink. "I'm--yours--what?"

"My friend, dummy," Lance said, knocking against Keith's skull as if to check for an echo, "you know, like we were just discussing?"

"Oh," Keith breathed, swallowing another mouthful of blue punch to flush the taste of his own heartbeat out of his mouth, "yeah."

All at once, Lance paled underneath Keith's gaze. It made Keith uncomfortable again, almost like Lance had read his mind and was thinking what Keith had initially assumed "you're mine" meant, what he'd almost hoped it had meant, and looked away.

Instead of saying anything, Lance stood from the table, wobbling just a bit as if the blood rushed to his head.

"You good?" Keith asked begrudgingly.

Lance blinked a few times and pressed his fingers to his left temple. "Yeah," he replied uncertainly, "I just... maybe that drink was a little stronger than I thought it was."

Keith smirked. "Don't tell me you're drunk."

Lance didn't take the bait. "No," he reassured, and didn't say anything else as he pushed his chair under the table, "I'll be back. Bathroom."

Keith frowned, but Lance wasn't there to see it. For a moment he thought about chasing after him, but decided quickly that if Lance indeed were going to get sick in the bathroom, that he wanted no part of it, and chose to just keep sipping at his own drink.

That's when Tauchir returned to the table, sitting in Lance's abandoned seat and smiling oddly.

"Looks like we're finally alone," they said, causing Keith's eyebrow to twitch.

"He's just in the bathroom," he explained slowly, "Lance will be back in a minute."

Tauchir made the face of someone who'd forgotten something important, or let something slip. "Right, of course. I just mean--the moment is ours." He leaned forward.

___________________

Lance's head was positively spinning by the time he made it to the bathroom. He splashed cold water on his face to try to satiate the fact that he felt overly hot and sweat-slick, but the water doubled and tripled and distorted in his vision, and he found himself instead gripping the sink for stability while he rested a cheek under the stream of the faucet.

Something wasn't right. He'd drank before; his family was always pretty okay with him having glass of wine or two at parties, and his friends on Earth had been drinking beer pretty much since they'd weaned off milk, so he'd learned to tolerate that, too. Cocktails were different, he knew, but he'd only had half of his, and it hadn't tasted devastatingly strong, nothing that would trigger this amount of intoxication.

Not until he heaved up a mouthful of bile ever so slightly tinged with digested blood did he understand--poison. There was something in the drink.

Two names came immediately to mind.

Tauchir.

Keith.


	3. Chapter 3

Lance stumbled out of the bathroom with a hand pressed to his forehead. His bangs were clinging to damp skin, and he wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve, inwardly cringing thinking of what his mother would say. 

"Tauchir," Lance growled when he finally got his eyes to focus on the table where they and Keith sat across the room. Keith looked uncomfortable even through Lance's wavering vision. He bit his lip and stepped forward--

\--directly into Hunk's back. 

"Lance!" Hunk greeted, grinning brightly. Lance's head pounded against the volume, but he forced a smile. "Are you enjoying the party?"

"Yeah," Lance replied with fake cheer, "it's great." He moved to step around Hunk, but was stopped by a large hand on his chest.

"Not so fast," Hunk winked. "I want to introduce you to someone."

"Now?" Lance asked, tossing a glance toward Keith. 

"She's been asking me about you all night. Meiora!" A tall, beautiful alien girl looked up at Hunk's call, immediately breaking into the most dazzling grin and endearing blush Lance had ever seen. "This is Meiora," Hunk introduced. She took Lance's hand gently and kissed it. "She's a model from Adenon IX."

Still, he couldn't be rude. "I'm Lance," he said, attempting as best he could to be charming past the pounding headache and the rolling nausea. 

"Oh, I know who you are; blue paladin," she giggled. "I've heard lots of stories. I was wondering if maybe you wanted to get out of here? I know a much more... private place, where we could... talk." She was blushing and looking down at the floor despite the forwardness of the invitation. Hunk nodded furiously from behind her so that only Lance could see, encouraging him to go, but Lance shook his head. 

"I'm sorry," he declined, "it was lovely to meet you, but I've got to get back--to my friend." Lance didn't give her another moment's thought as he tried to control stumbling steps back to Keith's table. 

Meiora frowned. "I thought you said he was single," she accused, looking expectantly at Hunk.

"What? He is!" 

"That doesn't look single to me," she rolled her eyes, pointing at the table where Lance sat, holding Keith's hand and leaning his head on Keith's shoulder. 

Hunk blinked in shock, unable to do anything more than just stand, dumbstruck, before shrugging and hitting the dance floor once more. A bit of a surprise, but not entirely unexpected, he thought. 

\------------------------

Lance laughed loudly at something Keith said, which, judging by the confused expressions of the rest of the table, was not a joke. He couldn't really hear, not with all the blood rushing in his ears, and the blinding headache was making it difficult to focus. 

He wanted to tell Keith, he really did. Nothing would make him happier than to get out of here, to go back to the castle and hop into a pod and come out feeling... well, not like he felt now, that's for sure. 

However, the look in Tauchir's eyes stopped him. The look of absolution, of dedication, and of sheer unfeeling desire. Lance had seen that look before, only one time--the eyes of his younger sister's ex boyfriend. When Mari had broken up with Benny, he hadn't taken it well, and she'd come to Lance. Their mom had told her she shouldn't be dating someone five years older than her--at 16, that age difference meant a lot. One day after school, Mari had rushed in crying, immediately slamming and locking the door to her room. Before Lance could go after her, the doorbell rang, and he answered it to reveal Benny, standing there with a bunch of flowers, a picture he'd drawn of the two of them, and the kind of eyes that you see in the intro of a Dateline NBC episode before they tell you what happened to that poor, lovely young woman. He'd called the police and they'd handled it, assuring Mari that she'd never have to see him again. 

Those same eyes looked at Lance now. He could see the ditch that Tauchir would bury him and Keith's bodies in reflected in them, daring him to overstep his boundaries. 

Lance would play the game exactly how it needed to be played to keep Tauchir placated. To keep Keith safe. Whatever it took.

"Lance, sugar," Keith tried for his attention, shaking his shoulder when that didn't work.

"Yeah," Lance replied. He couldn't bring himself to look at anything except Keith's shoes. They were black and matte, covered by the shadow of the table, and of everything in his field of vision, they hurt his eyes the least. The candle, the cream-colored tablecloth, even just the whites of Keith's eyes were all too bright. 

"Can I see you for a minute?" 

Lance nodded, and Keith had to steady him an alarming amount when he stood.

"S'wrong?" Lance slurred.

"Are you drunk?" Keith asked. 

"What?" Lance squaked, blinking a few times to try to focus Keith's face in his vision, "No."

Keith didn't look convinced. "You know that this is an important night for Allura, right?"

"Of course I do," Lance agreed. Of course he did. 

"What would she say if she saw you right now? You can barely stand up by yourself." 

Lance shook his head, trying to shove away the fogginess there. He deflated. If he argued that he wasn't drunk, then Keith might believe him, press for more information, and find out he'd been poisoned, exposing Tauchir and effectively dooming both of them. "Okay," Lance admitted, "maybe I had a 'lil too much." 

Keith softened. "Let's sit down," he suggested. "I'll get you some water."

Lance paled and shook his head. "Won't stay down," he confessed.

Keith raised an eyebrow. "Have you thrown up already?" A quick, embarrassed nod. "Ah, geez. You're really a mess right now, you know that? You're all sweaty."

That didn't make sense to Lance. He didn't feel hot--the opposite, in fact. The only thing he could feel was the trembling of his muscles against the cold air in the banquet hall. But if Keith wasn't feeling that, then it must just be the fever talking, and he should probably keep it to himself. 

"M'sorry," Lance slurred. 

"It's fine." Lance opened his eyes when he felt a cold, wet cloth pressed against his face, then blinked at the image of Keith mopping at his forehead with a napkin dipped in ice water. "What I said," Keith started, sounding a bit embarrassed himself, "about Allura. I didn't mean that. She won't be mad if we need to take you home. You need to let loose every once in a while. De-stress. We all do. So she won't blame you for overdoing it. Maybe we should tell her we need to leave."

Tauchir's beady eyes dared Lance to accept that suggestion from the table behind Keith.

"I'm good," he lied. "Just need some air. Let's go to the balcony."


	4. Chapter Four

The cool air that Lance was able to breathe in on the balcony did wonders for settling his nausea, but nothing for the chill he felt. He'd nearly ran upstairs to get here, unable to stand the lights and the noise of the party below much longer, which had clearly surprised Keith, who now stood in the glass doorway. 

"Trying to get rid of me?" Keith asked teasingly. "You ran up here like someone's trying to kill you."

Lance's stomach flipped. "Ha, ha," he deadpanned. "I just wanted some--"

"--Air, right," Keith finished, looking skeptical. "Seriously, what's up with you?"

"Nothing," Lance bit. He shivered against the cold and hugged his arms tight around his body. This action did not go unnoticed by Keith. He shrugged off his suit jacket and set it lightly over Lance's shoulders, so lightly that Lance found himself checking the doorway to see if they'd been followed. 

"Relax, we ditched Tauchir," Keith rolled his eyes. "Is that seriously bothering you?"

"Of course it is," Lance forced out through chattering teeth.

"It's just a stupid crush."

"It's an infatuation, Keith, and it's creepy," Lance said, a sense of urgency coloring his tone. "This isn't something to mess around with."

"Nothing's gonna happen," Keith said, and before Lance could even argue, they were suddenly not alone anymore.

"Oh, Keith, fancy meeting you up here," Tauchir greeted innocently. A sharp pain cut through Lance's abdomen, and he doubled forward slightly, biting back a groan that Keith was too distracted to notice. 

"Right," Keith replied. For all the reassuring things he'd said to Lance just moments ago, he was flapping his hands the way he did only when he was extremely anxious. 

Tauchir smirked. "How's that boyfriend of yours doing?" they asked smugly, "he's looking a bit pale. Overdo it on the drinks? How embarrassing."

Lance was going to throw up. He was going to throw up, and Keith would figure out the whole thing, and Tauchir would kill both of them.

Keith's hand moved protectively to the center of Lance's back. "He's fine," Keith supplied angrily. 

"Are you sure about that?" 

For the first time, Keith's hair stood on end. "Lance?" he whispered, getting low to Lance's level. "Woah, you do look bad."

Lance knew what Tauchir wanted. "Keith, babe, can you be a dear and get me some water?" Keith hesitated, glancing back and forth between Lance and the door, but Lance shook his head. "It'll be fine," he reassured. "Just--water."

Keith ran off in search of a water bottle, leaving Lance and the alien on the balcony alone to talk. His stomach was still bright with burning, searing pain, and with Keith gone, he finally allowed himself to fold double, pressing one hand against his abdomen and the other to his mouth, which was watering ominously. He allowed his eyes to slip closed for just a second, feeling the refreshing cool breeze blow his sweaty bangs back before opening them again. 

"How're you liking the drink I ordered you, huh?" Tauchir asked sardonically, moving in close to Lance so silently and so fast that he startled. That set his nausea over the edge, and he leaned over the side of the balcony, gagging twice before heaving up another mouthful of vomit tinged with coppery blood. 

"What did you do to me?" Lance asked. "What's gonna happen to me?"

Tauchir shrugged. "Nothing that doesn't happen to everyone eventually," they said noncommittally. "You know, I have an antidote for it." Lance forced himself to straighten up. 

"Let me guess," he drawled, feeling even more worn out now than he had when they'd gotten up on the balcony, "you'll give it to me, but only if I hand over Keith."

Tauchir smirked. "So you're not as dumb as you look."

"Well, that's not gonna happen," Lance spat. "he's my boyfriend, and you can't have him."

"Oh, cut the act," Tauchir moaned, "I know you two are faking." 

"W-what?" Lance stuttered. "Of course we're not--aah," he winced, cut off by another sharp pain in his stomach which brought him to his knees, gagging once more over the side of the balcony.

"You think you're seriously tricking anyone? No couple in history is as awkward as you two are."

"Keith's just an awkward guy," Lance defended. It wasn't untrue. "I think it's... hot..."

"Drop the act, boy," Tauchir said, voice suddenly steely and grey.

"Well, even if we're not really dating, that doesn't mean anything, because I love him," Lance blurted.

"You... what?" 

Of course. Of fucking course Keith had to choose this moment to come back up the stairs. For someone who was chosen to save it, the universe really did seem to hate Lance.

"Keith," Lance greeted, "you're--back."

"I got you water," Keith told him. "You should sit down and drink it."

"M'good," Lance slurred, "I was just--Tauchir figured out we aren't dating, I didn't just tell."

"Okay, Lance," Keith soothed, "that's fine. Just have some water. You really don't look so good." Lance's knees gave out just as Keith came up behind him to maneuver him into a seated position, sending them both crashing to the ground with Lance sitting up between Keith's legs.

"You heard me say I love you," Lance fought. "Should explain that."

"I don't care about that," Keith snapped, "what I care about is why you seem to be getting drunker even though it's been almost an hour since you had anything to drink."

"You--you don't care?" 

That's what Lance would fixate on, Keith cursed to himself. Even half conscious, he found a way to be the most irritating person Keith had ever met. 

"That's not what I mean," Keith backpedaled, "can you focus on what's important, here?" Lance's eyes filled with tears, and Keith squeezed himself out from behind Lance so he could look him straight-on. "What the heck--why are you crying?" Keith asked desperately. Lance closed his eyes tightly and two tears rolled down his cheeks, so Keith took his face between his hands in an attempt to make him focus. Once his hands pressed against the skin of his cheeks, however, the heat that radiated off him became apparent. "And why are you burning up? Lance, talk to me!" 

Tauchir laughed, bringing Keith's attention back to the present. He whipped around, grabbing his sword from his thigh holster, and lunged, pressing the blade to the alien's throat. 

"You," Keith growled. "Tell me how to fix him."

"I've no idea what you mean," Tauchir deflected, looking upward with feigned innocence. "However, if I did have such information, this is a terribly unromantic setting for getting to know each other, don't you agree?"

Keith's eyes narrowed in anger, but he holstered his blade. "Fine," he conceded, "a date, a kiss; whatever you want."

"Oh, no," Tauchir smiled, "I've got much bigger plans than that." From a pocket on their coat, they brought out a small black box and held it open. A ring, complete with an energetic forcefield emanating from the bright blue stone in the center, glistened inside. "What I need is an heir."

Keith bristled. "You want me to--to carry your--"

Tauchir threw their head back and guffawed. "Of course not, you beautiful idiot," they laughed, wiping tears from their eyes, "You're the sperm, not the egg. I will carry the child. You will father it."

Keith tossed a concerned glance to his friend, who lay on the ground positively writhing in pain now. He leaned to the side and retched, throwing up this time an alarming amount of blood. 

"Lance!" Keith cried, lunging for him, but Tauchir stopped him easily with a hand around his waist. "Let me go; I need to help him! He's dying!"

"And he will finish doing so," Tauchir threatened, "unless you say we have a deal."

"Keith," Lance breathed, his jaw tight with chills and pain, "don't do it."

"Do. We have. A deal?"

Keith stopped struggling in Tauchir's arms as Lance went limp and his eyes rolled back in his head, gasping for every labored breath.

"It's a deal," Keith said quietly, "if you fix him. Only if he lives."

"Then I'll ensure that he does," Tauchir said, sounding mildly annoyed. They released their grasp on Keith and took a step forward toward Lance, rummaging through their pockets for something that Keith couldn't see. Lance looked up for a moment with absolute clarity in his eyes. He pulled himself up onto his feet, wobbling dangerously. 

"Lance, lie down," Keith instructed, "we're going to help you."

Instead, he turned away from Keith and Tauchir to face the edge of the balcony and climbed up onto the rail, balanced precariously for only a moment.

"Lance!" Keith screamed, "Get down from there!"

And then Lance dove over the edge.


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, y'all! Thanks for reading this!

Keith felt sick to his stomach as he watched Lance leap from the balcony. 

"Lance!" he cried out, rushing to the railing. Tauchir was right behind him, keeping one hand firmly on his wrist and tugging him away from the edge. "Let me go!" Keith shouted, squirming as hard as he could from Tauchir's grasp. 

"We made a deal, paladin," Tauchir hissed, "you're mine."

Suddenly, it clicked. What Lance was trying to do. That dumb freak. "That deal only applies if Lance doesn't--if he's okay," Keith couldn't bring himself to finish the first thought. "You have to let me check on him." 

Tauchir narrowed their eyes. "Very well," they growled.

A crowd had already formed around the spot where Lance had landed, most of the aliens screaming and panicking. Keith could see the audience as soon as he got to the bottom of the staircase, and he started running for them until he was interrupted by a voice from behind him.

"Keith!" Hunk called, rushing to catch up, "where have you been? Apparently someone fell off the balcony," he explained. Pidge was right behind him, nodding furiously in a panic. She twisted the sleeves of her tuxedo nervously. 

"I knew that's where you guys went, so we got worried. I'm glad you're okay. Where's Lance?"

Keith looked down at the ground, his eyes finally filling with tears that had been thus far warded off by adrenaline. 

"Keith?" Pidge tried, "What's wrong? Where's Lance?"

"I can't--I have to--he was just trying to--." Keith stumbled over several sentences, finding none that he was able to finish without setting the tears spilling over, so he simply pointed, avoiding eye contact with the other paladins. 

"You don't mean...." Hunk gasped, paling and covering his mouth with his hand in disbelief. "Lance fell?"

Keith nodded. 

"No," Pidge breathed, turning away from her friends and sprinting toward the crowd. She cut through them quickly, using her short stature as a maneuverability advantage, and didn't stop until she was at the center of the ring of aliens. She couldn't bring herself to take another step forward because it would land her in the pool of blood. Just as she felt herself start to crumple, Hunk's strong hands were under her arms, supporting her and guiding her into a seated position. Keith stood above them, wavering but not falling, his mouth opening and closing like a fish without water. 

The sight wasn't easy to take in. Lance had landed on one shoulder mostly, and clearly, judging by the bloodied scrapes and dirt on his tux, rolled a few inches before settling. He was unconscious, maybe worse. Bystanders looked on, muttering about how terrible it was that such a young alien had taken his own life like that, some of them calling for a doctor that understood the anatomy of his species. A few aliens were crowded directly around his body, poking and prodding unhelpfully. 

"Get away from him," Keith commanded lowly, not taking his eyes off the ground. His fists were tight at his side and no one spared him a second glance. "Get away," he demanded once more, this time stepping toward Lance. He shooed off the aliens who clearly had no idea what they were doing and dropped to his knees beside his friend. The tears he'd managed to bite back returned, this time not as willing to retreat and spilled onto his cheeks. With a gentle hand, he pushed Lance's hair back from where it was stuck to his forehead with sweat and let out a shaky sigh. 

"I love you too, dummy," he whispered as he grabbed Lance's wrist and searched for a pulse. Every second without feeling the rush of blood in Lance's veins underneath his fingertips was agony, and they ticked on and on, longer and longer until he cursed out loud, pressing his head to Lance's torso and letting out a heavy sob. 

"Is he...?" Pidge asked, trailing off tearfully. 

Keith shook his head. "No pulse."

"I'll start compressions," Hunk said suddenly, "You breathe." Hunk's hands placed themselves on Lance's chest and Keith inched closer to his face, leaning down. At Hunk's signal, he pinched Lance's nose, tipped his head back, and breathed twice, hard, forcing air into Lance's lungs. 

Distantly, he thought about the possible consequences of agitating the body of someone who almost definitely had a neck injury, but there was no time to really ponder the notion as Hunk told him to breathe again. His lips pressed to Lance's, soft but cold from the lack of heartbeat and the hypoxia he'd endured from the poison. They had a blue tint to them, which Keith almost found funny amidst his blue eyes and his blue tie, sobering at the contrast of the bright red blood that he could feel seeping into the knees of his pants where he kneeled. 

The sweat on Lance's forehead had evaporated. 

Keith breathed desperately into Lance's mouth, with the same desperation with which Hunk was performing compressions, but it wasn't enough. Minutes ticked by seeming like hours, and Lance didn't stir, didn't breathe, didn't beat his heart. A sense of numbness washed over Keith and he got the vague sensation that someone was ushering him away from Lance's prone form, Allura perhaps, and his vision went red when he locked eyes with Tauchir.

Keith stumbled forward a few miserable steps and locked his hands firmly around Tauchir's throat, leaning in closely enough for them to smell the alcohol on his breath and the blood on his clothes as he whispered, "deal's off." Tauchir scrambled away, terrified to think what might happen to them if they stayed to face the consequences of what they'd done. Keith didn't pursue them--it wasn't worth it. Nothing was. Lance was gone. He'd endured poisoning to save Keith's life, and leapt from a balcony to protect that life. 

Keith's mind raced through photo albums of a future he didn't know he'd so firmly planted Lance within. Lance's face disappeared from a mental selfie of the first date Keith had wanted to take him on, to a dessert shop on some alien planet Hunk had raved about. Through a second date, a third, so many that they'd stopped counting and decided to just make it official and propose already. Through a wedding, through a honeymoon, through the adoption of their kids, through growing up and growing old and being happy. Thousands of snapshots flashed through his head and he watched as Lance's face was burned from each one of them, leaving a black, gaping hole in each minute piece of the future he'd built so casually and so subtly that he hadn't even noticed it was there.

Hunk was saying something to him, but he couldn't quite make it out past the ringing in his ears, so he just let Pidge take his hand and lead him to her Lion. Keith wasn't sure if Allura made some kind of formal, royal announcement that they were leaving or if she just dragged the paladins out of the banquet without a word, but he didn't care. There was a breathing mask on Lance's face, Lord knows where it had come from, and his chest was rising and falling, though not of his own accord. The breathing was being done for him, just as it had been when Keith was the source of air. 

Allura got them all back to the castle in record time. Before Keith could even step out of his Lion, Coran was holding Lance like a baby, cradled in his arms, and sprinting to the healing pods. Nothing about his facial expression promised Keith that Lance would live. 

But he did. 

Through some miracle, the swift medical intervention, not to mention the magical healing pods, saved his life. 

Several days later, the pod hissed open, startling Keith awake from where he was napping on a chair, and Lance staggered out. He only made it two steps before collapsing to the ground, but Keith was at his side in an instant.

"Lance!" he breathed, "Oh my God, Lance. I can't believe--you didn't--you were--."

"Are you planning on finishing any of these sentences?" Lance joked with a raspy voice. Keith extended a water pouch to him, which he grasped with a weak grip, and ran a hand through his hair, feeling manic. 

"You're alive," Keith whispered. He set his hand over Lance's chest, feeling the steady, strong beat of his heart, and sighed. "How do you feel?"

"Like I jumped off a balcony onto concrete," he joked. Keith didn't crack a smile, so Lance sobered. "I can't feel my legs very well, and my grip in my hands feels weak."

"Coran said that you're gonna have to do a hell of a lot of physical therapy to get back your full range of motion," Keith explained, "and you might never get back all the strength you had before."

Lance frowned. "Oh, man. I'll have to make sure that I work extra hard--the ladies love the pythons." He flexed exaggeratedly, but the muscle barely twitched, and he couldn't keep it raised for more than a second before his whole arm was trembling. 

"Don't joke," Keith muttered, starting angrily at the ground. "I thought I lost you." Tears filled his eyes. "I did lose you, for a really long time."

"It was only a few minutes," Lance brushed him off casually, but when Keith glared at him, he began to fidget his hands nervously. "I know it was stupid," he admitted. "In my defense, I was drunk, and under the influence of a pretty strong poison."

"Why did you do it?"

"I couldn't just let you marry that creep," he replied, "and I knew you would, because that's the kind of leader you are. You'd do it for any of us."

"Just like you'd jump for any of us," Keith finished. He hesitated, took a deep breath, and clenched his eyes shut. "I think there's something we should talk about."

Lance flushed bright red. "Oh," he said anxiously, "right; I figured that might come up. Listen, about the whole 'I love you' thing, that was just--"

Keith cut him off by tackling him to the ground backwards with a firm kiss planted on his lips. "I said it back," Keith reminded him, "don't you remember?"

Lance looked sheepish. "Everything's pretty hazy, to be honest."

Keith rolled his eyes. "Of course," he resigned, "you never remember the bonding moments."

"But you--you do?"

"I do what? " Keith asked, cocking his head to the side like a confused puppy before the light bulb illuminated above it. "Love you?"

Lance nodded, and Keith grasped his hand tightly, intertwining their fingers. "Yeah," he replied, laughing to hold back tears, "I do."

"I love you, too," Lance smiled. "Next alien banquet, maybe we can avoid all this by letting me take you as my real date."

Keith laughed. "Right, like Allura is ever going to let us go to another party." Lance agreed, but that wouldn't stop him from buying matching ties for the two of them just in case.


End file.
